


Forgiveness ("Can You Imagine?")

by uwu_derp



Series: Is He The Right One? [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Emotions, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internal Conflict, Love, Mikasa Ackerman & Levi Are Siblings, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, Past Rape/Non-con, Realization, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwu_derp/pseuds/uwu_derp
Summary: With her tragic high school life in her past, Mikasa begins to grow comfortable in her new life, where she can be happy with the love of her life and her new family.However, when Eren tells her that he happened to come across Jean at his work, Mikasa realizes that in order to move on from her painful past, she'll have to force herself to reflect on a few things first...
Relationships: Levi/Petra Ral, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Series: Is He The Right One? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771666
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Forgiveness ("Can You Imagine?")

**Author's Note:**

> AND NOW THE SEQUEL IS FINALLY OUT! :D
> 
> even though the title is quoted from "It's Quiet Uptown" from Hamilton, this has nothing to do with the musical. I just liked the symbolism lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how it all starts

“Right— _ ohh yeah _ —right  _ there.” _

“Here?”

“ _ Mmn _ —yeah. G-Go a bit lower though.”

“Like this?”

“Yup like— _ hah—nghnn—ssshit—th-there! _ ”

“Damn,” Eren mutters as he works faster against Mikasa, letting his fingers probe deeper, “your muscles are tight, Mika.”

“Mmn, really?” She asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is buried in.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. He shifts down, straddling her back as he works his thumbs into her shoulder blades, relieving the tension that makes her muscles taut. “You should stretch more.”

“You should do  _ this _ more,” she quips snarkily.

Eren hums in response, shifting down again so that he’s sitting on her lower back as he trails his hands down, working his fingers deeper into her skin. Mikasa moans into the pillow when he massages a particularly tight spot, and taking note of this, Eren rolls his knuckles in that same spot again as he gauges her reaction.

She jerks slightly before sighing into the pillow, turning her head over to peer up at him.

“Thanks for giving me this massage,” she says.

He nods. “Anything for you.” After he speaks, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of her neck where she  _ swears _ she isn’t ticklish which instantly has her snorting in response.

“You’re so cheesy,” she comments.

“Am I?” He asks, though he doesn’t bother waiting for her response. He wraps his arms around her, turning her over and rolling across the mattress so that his body is hovering just inches above hers when they come to a stop, ignoring her squawk in response to the sudden shift in movement. 

Mikasa lays supine on the mattress, dark locks sprawled out on the comforter as she gazes up at Eren, cheeks tinted red and she smiles.

“You’re a flirt,” she titters, lifting her forefinger to  _ boop _ his nose.

He smirks down at her. “A flirt that  _ you _ fell for,” he retorts with a grin.

She laughs. “Damn right I did. Get over here.” She reaches her arms up, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down to connect their lips. They both melt into the kiss, Mikasa sighing pleasantly when she feels a familiar tongue slip into her mouth to join hers.

She smiles into the kiss as a surge of heat spreads through her veins, sending her body ablaze, and she pulls apart just to gulp air into her lungs before Eren quickly kisses her again. She notices the lust pooling in his emerald eyes when they pull apart which only makes her grow redder as they indulge in another-

“Hey, Mika, are you-“

They quickly pull apart, scrambling to put distance between them, but it’s too late—Petra, who stands in the opened doorway, stares at them both with a gaping mouth.

Mikasa clears her throat as she sits up in her bed, scooting away from Eren. “A-Am I what?”

Brown eyes blink incredulously before Petra clears her throat, taking a tentative step back out of the room. “Uh, I was going to ask if you’re ready to go?”

“Go?” Mikasa echoes. “Go where?”

Petra cocks a brow. “Dress shopping,” she reminds.

“Oh,” Mikasa murmurs, before a much louder and realizing, “oh!” slips past her lips.

_ Crap, how could I forget? We’re supposed to go dress shopping on Saturday,  _ she thinks, scrambling out of bed.

“Yeah, uhm…” Petra’s eyes dart to Eren, but the boy turns his head away as a flush of embarrassment comes over him. “I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

And then she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

Mikasa looks back to Eren, both bright red in embarrassment, before they share a dazed and breathless laugh.

“We don’t have much luck, do we?” He comments, remembering how this isn’t the first time they’ve been caught in such a compromising position before.

Mikasa sighs. “Not much luck at all,” she agrees with a shake off her head.

“I should get going anyways,” Eren states as he stands up. “I need to cover my coworker’s shift in half an hour.”

Mikasa nods. “Okay. See you later..?” It sounds a bit like a question.

He nods, smiling. “Of course.” He makes for the door, but kisses Mikasa’s forehead just before he leaves. “See you later, Mika.” When he leaves, Mikasa feels as though she’s prepared to melt into a puddle of affectionate goo.

But she quickly recollects herself, remembering that Petra is waiting for her to go wedding dress shopping, and she scrambles to her dresser and pulls out a decent set of clothes to change into.

As she’s slipping on her socks, she peers over to look at the frame hanging on her wall, and she smiles as her heart warms.

There, framed on her bedroom wall, is her highschool diploma. Graduation was two months ago in May, and since then, a  _ lot _ has changed.

For one, Petra and Levi started focusing on their wedding planning _a_ _lot_. Petra is a bit paranoid about the whole ordeal, wanting each and every thing to be perfect for her special day with Levi, and although he won’t show it, Levi is a bit worried too. Alas, Mikasa has always been there to calm the two in their state of panic.

And another thing—Mikasa and Eren started applying to colleges. Levi and Petra’s wedding will be in early September (they both hate the summer heat and would rather get married without everyone sweating to death), and if Mikasa gets accepted in any of the colleges she applied to, school was start for her in mid-September, just after Levi and Petra’s wedding.

Both her and Eren have applied to the same colleges, so of course, the same goes for Eren too.

Both young-adults (they’re both eighteen now) have taken up summer jobs to save up some cash—Eren working at a fast food store and Mikasa as a tutor. And so far, everything in life seems to slowly fall in place, and Mikasa couldn’t be more happy.

After she finishes putting her clothes on, she pulls open a drawer to spray on some perfume when at the bottom, underneath her glass perfume bottle, she sees a flash of white.

An envelope, rumpled and crinkled,  _ months _ old. The corners are bent, and there’s sloppy yet coherent writing on the front. All it says;  _ An Apology _ .

Mikasa frowns and tucks it away further, quickly putting on her perfume before she shoves it back into her drawer and slams it shut.

Every time she sees the envelope, she feels weird—gets all jittery. She isn’t exactly sure if she’ll be pleased with its contents, apology or not, and therefore she remains hesitant to read it.

_ One day, _ she’ll keep telling herself, as she does now.  _ One day, I’ll read it. _

That  _ one day _ isn’t today.

She recovers quickly from the sight of Annie’s letter and grabs her purse sitting on her bed, pulling that strap onto her shoulder as she leaves her room and makes her way downstairs. Petra stands pacing back and forth in the living room, the anxiety in her posture evident, though when she spots Mikasa, a bit of her tension releases through a sigh.

“There you are,” she grumbles. “Come on, let’s go.”

Mikasa nods wordlessly, watching Petra rush to the front door and fumble to slip her shoes on.

“Your anxiety is showing,” Mikasa comments, matter-of-fact as she slips her own shoes on with ease.

“W-Well, I’m just nervous.” The ginger plays with her fingers nervously. “Wh-What if Levi doesn’t like the dress I choose?”

“Levi loves you in anything,” Mikasa reassures. “Don’t be so uptight.”

Petra slowly nods. “Y-Yeah. I guess you’re right.” They both leave the house and make their way to Petra’s car in the driveway, but even as Mikasa gets settled in the passenger seat, she notices that Petra’s shoulders remain hunched over. She sighs.

“What are you so scared of, exactly?” The noirette asks her to-be sister-in-law.

Petra jolts as she turns the car on, surprised by Mikasa’s straightforward inquiry. It’s when the car engine has started to hum underneath their feet when Petra finally sighs and shrugs.

“I… don’t know. I’m just… worried about nothing, I guess,” she mumbles as she pulls out of the driveway. “I’m more excited, actually. But I’m worried that Levi isn’t as excited.”

Mikasa snorts and tries to suppress her laughter at that  _ ridiculous  _ remark, though she can’t control the full-bodied chortle that rolls through her. Amber eyes flicker to her, disconcerted and distraught, and it’s only when Petra gives her this look of utter hopelessness does Mikasa actually successfully quell her laughter.

“That—“ she gasps between titters, “—is  _ ridiculous, _ ” she says bluntly. “I’ve never, in my life, seen Levi more excited for something before. He’s not expressive, but I’m his sister—I can tell that he’s as ecstatic as you are.”

Petra still doesn’t seem convinced. Her shoulders are still taut. Mikasa sighs.

“Okay, look, you didn’t hear this from me, but the other day I heard Levi on the phone talking about how excited he was for your wedding. And if that doesn’t convince you enough, you should ask himself. Miscommunication doesn’t do anyone any good.” Mikasa frowns a bit as she admits this. “Don’t let your anxious thoughts get to you,” she murmurs a bit to herself as she looks down, almost as a reminder.

In her peripheral vision, she spots Petra giving her an almost sympathetic glance. Her shoulders lower a bit as she smiles weakly, nodding as she turns back to the road.

“You’re… right,” she agrees. “I’ll talk to him and get rid of my own anxiety.”

Mikasa nods back and decides to leave it at that. They continue to ride in a comfortable silence to the dress store, and upon getting there, two people immediately sweep Petra away—a guy and a girl. They take her measurements, guide her to pick out fabrics and designs she may desire to be on her gown, and although Mikasa came here  _ with _ Petra, she feels a bit as though her presence isn’t needed.

Apart from the occasional questions Petra will ask of her opinion on something— _ what do you think of this design? do you think this color is nice for the pearls? _ —Mikasa isn’t exactly needed, so she feels free to roam around. She ogles at what’s on display, and when she see a particular dress, a breath hitches in her throat because— _ yes, fuck _ —she can see herself in it already.

_ Calm down, Mika. You’re only eighteen. Stop thinking about marriage already, _ she tells herself. But she’s never been a good listener.

So she continues to stare at the dress that catches her eye—the almost bleached white of the gown that just  _ goes _ with the silver trimming, with red-tinted ornaments above the waistline. It’s a long sleeve, mermaid dress that she envisions herself in, with her dark hair pulled up into a tight, braided bun, flowers adorned atop her head right where her veil begins. She swallows thickly, thinking distantly how her red scarf would actually kind of go with this, only to be rooted back to reality by a loud call of,

“—ikasa—Mikasa—Mikasa!”

She snaps her attention back to the ginger she came with, the older woman now standing a few feet away. She looks a bit impatient, but also a bit confused.

“I was calling you five times. Didn’t you hear me?”

Mikasa swallows and laughs nervously. “Heh, sorry, I uh… distracted. I got distracted.” She turns a bit red as she stalks back over to Petra. “Did you finish everything up?”

Petra nods. “More or less. They told me to come back in a week for the design, see if I like it or not. But we can go now.”

Mikasa nods, following Petra out the door and remaining grateful that the woman doesn’t question why she seemed so captivated by the dress before. God, no, the embarrassment that would flow through her at having to admit that she had envisioned  _ herself _ in the dress might just be death-inducing.

But then, when they arrive back home, Petra asks the question Mikasa had been  _ dreading _ to hear.

“So, what, why were you so captivated by that dress back there?”

* * *

“ _ Thanks for taking up my shift, Eren. God, I’m sorry, if only my mom told me earlier that she’d need me to babysit- _ “

“Dude,  _ relax, _ ” Eren butts in. “I told you it’s fine.”

A sigh comes from the other end of his phone receiver. “ _ Right, but still—sorry, I know you’ve been covering for me a lot. _ ”

Eren shrugs, although his coworker on the other side of the call can’t see him. “It’s okay. Just know that you have to treat me out to food one day, though,” he grumbles.

A hearty laugh comes from the other side. “ _ Of course. See you later, Jeager. _ ”

Eren nods. “Bye.” The call ends after that.

Eren pockets his phone as he steps into the back room of his workplace, immediately being greeted by two other workers—a kid who looks like she’s younger than Eren, but is actually older than him by a few years, and a guy whom Eren recognizes all-too-quickly, Armin.

“Eren!” The girl exclaims at him with a smile. “So nice to see you five days in a row,” she teases with a smirk.

Eren rolls his eyes mirthfully at her. “Like you’re one to talk,” he grumbles, though his words hold only half of his usual conviction.

Armin smiles at his friend. “You’re covering for Furlan again,” he says, not bothering to make a question out of it.

Eren shrugs. “He needed someone to cover for him.”

“And of course, you’re always the best option. Maybe I should call you next time I wanna skip a shift?” The girl who doesn’t seem to understand the concept of an inside voice says.

“Not a chance,” Eren doesn’t hesitate to say.

The girl laughs. “Always so cold.”

Just then, the door to the back opens to be ajar. The door creaks on its mighty hinges, then: “Isabel,” a man’s head pops in through the gap, “come work the register.”

The girl—Isabel—nods. “Sure thing.”

She grabs the hair ties around her wrist, bidding Armin and Eren an ‘ _ adios, _ ’ as she ties her auburn hair back into pigtails and makes her way out of the room.

“She’s as buoyant as ever, huh?” Eren groans, though he doesn’t exactly seem disturbed. He doesn’t necessarily  _ hate _ Isabel, though she’s a bit loud and a lot to handle and there’s only so much of her energy Eren can entertain before he gets exhausted.

But Armin, at this, only laughs. “Getting a taste of your own medicine, I see. Now you know how tiring  _ you _ can be.”

Eren gives Armin a glare that holds no real heat to it. “Bite me,” he grumbles, tying his tiny black apron around his waist.

Armin snorts at that, and they both quickly finish getting ready before weaving their way into the back kitchen. Eren is putting on his gloves as Armin pushes the door open. 

“Arlert!” A voice says from inside. “Dishes are piling up!”

“On it!” Armin replies quickly, giving Eren a passing glance before he makes his way towards the sink.

Eren heads to his own designated area by the drive thru window, taking cash and giving out food. Usually, this is Furlan’s job, and Eren takes orders by the speaker, but today he’s covering Furlan’s shift.

And so the work day proceeds as normal; Eren takes their money, hands them their order, gives them any sauces if the customer requests so, and they drive off only for another to come, and repeat the cycle. There are the occasional teenagers who’ll come by and try to pull pranks on him (one guy takes an ice cream cone and smashes it into his head—it was funny to watch, but a big waste of money on his part), but apart from that, everything is mundane and normal.

Until-

“Here’s your— holy shit.”

Eren stiffens when, on the other side of the window, in the driver’s seat of the car right in front of him, is none other than  _ Jean fucking Kirsten. _

He drops the paper bag and drinks in his hand and the contents spill onto the road. Jean looks down at his dropped burger and soda, then back up at Eren. They both stand in silence. They blink.  _ What the fuck? What are the fucking odds? _

“Uhm,” Jean clears his throat awkwardly and looks away, cheeks reddening in most likely embarrassment, “shit.” It’s been months since they’ve seen each other, yet the anger Eren holds towards Jean burns to life in the pit of his stomach. For a moment, he considers grabbing a cup of soda and splashing it onto him, or maybe leaning over the window to punch the asshole in the face, but then he quickly reconsiders upon remembering that he’s at work and getting fired wouldn’t be pleasant.

“What,” Eren swallows, “the  _ fuck _ are you doing here?”

Jean looks down. His grip on his leather steering wheel tightens a bit. “I’m uh… ordering lunch…?” That’s not the answer Eren was looking for. He wants to know why the actual fuck Jean is order fast food from a cheap burger joint one town over from his own when they literally have so many  _ other _ cheap fast food places in his own neighborhood.

“No, I mean why are you  _ here? _ ” Eren asks, voice low as the question rushes out of him almost as though he’s spitting out venom.

“I just…” Jean sighs. “I’m here for my mom.”

Eren blinks. His lip curls. “ _ What? _ ”

“My  _ mom _ , asshole. She’s… sick. Our shitty health insurance only covers the hospital and your town, so I’m here to visit her.”

Eren blinks again. There’s a fire burning in his bones, anger bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.  _ Argh! _ he wants to yell.

Instead, he asks, again, like an idiot, “what?”

“Look, can you give me my fucking order or not?” Jean asks, eyes narrowing. As if on cue, a sharp honk comes from the car behind them, as if angrily asking  _ what’s taking so long? _

“Oi, Eren,” a random girl says, “hurry up. Serve the customer, we’ve got more waiting.”

This seems to root the brunet back to reality. He finally shakes his head and forces himself to remember his job. “Right. Can I get the same order again? A number 7?”

The girl rolls her eyes, but then disappears to get the same contents from the order and shove them into Eren’s chest. “Hurry  _ up, _ ” she says.

He nods, putting the burger and fries into the paper bag and then reaching over the window to hand it to Jean. His hands tremble as Jean grabs the soda first, itching to ball into a fist and punch him, but he refrains and quickly jerks his arms back inside the building once Jean gets his order.

“Now  _ leave, _ ” Eren grunts, glaring prominently at the man.

Jean frowns. “Look, really quickly… I just wanted to say sorry. About… what I did. To Mikasa.”

Eren blinks. 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

_ … _

_ Wait what?! _

“Okay, I was a jerk back then, but now I’m in a relationship and…” Jean sighs. “Look, I regret doing what I did to her. Being a playboy was fucked and I wish I hadn’t hurt her when I did. I uhm… really do like her, you know.”

Eren can’t speak. He’s speechless, listening incredulously as Jean continues to ramble about how he’s  _ sorry and that I’ve changed, okay? If you still hang out with Mikasa, can you just let her know? It might not do her any good, but I was an asshole and I’ve changed and I just really want her to know that I’m sorry. _

And when Jean finishes babbling, Eren just… stares at him. Baffled. Taken aback. This… wasn’t what he was expecting.

Jean shifts uncomfortably during Eren’s stunned silence, and just when a minute passes, Jean clears his throat and goes, “Uhm… alright. Just… wanted to let you know,” and then quickly speeds off.

And Eren is just… frozen.

Jean is really  _ sorry? _

* * *

The next morning, Mikasa walks into Eren’s room unannounced like she has a few times before. Eren’s mother had greeted her downstairs and smiled as she told her that Eren was in his room.

She expects to see him playing a video game on his laptop, maybe, or watching a show, but instead he’s just lying supine on his bed. His emerald eyes are focused up on the ceiling, dark brows furrowed in thought, and judging by the fact that he doesn’t shift when Mikasa walks in, he must not notice her entrance.

Slowly, Mikasa creeps over to his bed, staying out of his line of sight before pouncing on him completely. Eren makes an indignant noise when Mikasa’s entire body weight comes crashing down onto his lap.

In response to that, Mikasa giggles.

“Hey there, Jeager.”

He curls his lip. “Did you  _ have _ to jump on me?” He wheezes, though he doesn’t seem to be  _ actually _ mad.

Mikasa titters again. “You didn’t notice me coming in. How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Oh I don’t know—maybe by calling my  _ name? _ ”

Mikasa hums in thought. “Hmm, nah. That’s too boring.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but then finally smiles up at the girl straddling his hips. His hands fly to her waist, then lower to her thighs. Then to her ass. He squeezes the two globes in his grip, and Mikasa yelps in response. He smirks.

“Ah, I’ve missed this,” he murmurs reverently.

Mikasa’s eyes narrow as she leans forward, placing her hands on his firm chest. “You make it seem like we haven’t seen each other in months,” she murmurs back.

“Mmn, no. But I still missed this.” He gives her ass one more good-natured squeeze before Mikasa leans down completely to kiss him, long and soft, before separating. There’s a blush on both of their cheeks, though Eren’s attention seems to be a bit divided.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa murmurs.

He blinks up at her. “Nothing.” He’s a shit liar. Mikasa reaches down and pulls at his ears which have turned a bright shade of red.

“Your ears turn red when you lie,” Mikasa says, matter-of-factly. “What’s on your mind?”

Eren goes quiet again, eyes flitting to the side, and Mikasa frowns, sighing her exasperation as she leans down. She pokes the furrow between his brows, using her thumb to try and smooth out the line. “You’re going to give yourself worrylines if you keep furrowing your brows like this.”

This seems to be enough. Eren’s expression slowly softens, his dark brows lifting ever-so-slightly as he sighs and looks back up at Mikasa again.

“I… saw Jean. Yesterday, at work.”

Mikasa instantly stiffens. Her grip on his ear instinctively tightens, but when Eren winces she notices and quickly lets go. Her hands still needs to clench onto something, though—she has a strange feeling that she isn’t going to like this conversation-

“He said sorry.”

…

Mikasa blinks.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

_ Wait what?! _ She thinks, and she voices just that.

“What,  _ what _ ?!”

“I know,” Eren breathes, “I was confused too. He told me that he was sorry and… it’s just been bugging me all day.” His lips tilt into a lopsided grin, his expression softening the longer he stares at her. “Kind of ridiculous, huh?”

Mikasa is too lost in her own emotions—too stunned by her own shock for a moment—to even  _ speak _ , but she eventually processes Eren’s words and forces herself to exhale a breath. “Y-Yeah,” she says, but it comes out more shakily than intended. She pauses and clears her throat before speaking again; “crazy how he thinks sorry will just… make up for what he did.”

Eren nods. “I’d say to not let it get to you.” His arms lift from her ass to her back as he holds her before pulling him into her. “He was—no, he  _ is _ a jerk. Plus, you already have an awesome boyfriend in your life.”

Mikasa grins at that, almost genuinely.

( _ Almost. _ )

She nods slowly, then buries her face into his chest. Not wanting Eren to notice how disconcerted she's suddenly become by this information, she scoots up and burrows her face into the crook of his neck, hiding her expression.

“You alright?” He asks, somehow still being able to sense the way she feels.

Mikasa bites her bottom lip but then forces herself to nod. “Yeah. I just… wanna stay here for a bit.”

She feels the way he softly exhales with the way his chest slowly rises and falls. “Alright,” he murmurs, hand reaching up to stroke through her hair. He pushes back her ebony locks to kiss her temple, the action sending warmth bleeding down Mikasa’s spine.

  
  
  


They stay like that, huddled close together with Eren almost rhythmically stroking through her hair before his movements come to a slow. He’s fallen asleep, Mikasa figures, and not wanting to wake him, she simply huddles up closer to him, wrapping her arm around him to join him in the realm of peaceful rest.

That evening, she dreams of high school and sees two familiar faces in her mind—Annie and Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time to buckle in and wait for chapter 2 ;)
> 
> be prepared for tons of inner turmoil 😌


End file.
